THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
247 
unlike the typical Australian “creek.” I visited this 
portion of Gippsland in the full tide of summer, and it 
is almost impossible to describe the fresh beauty and 
luxuriance it presented in contrast to the other parts of 
Victoria I had seen. 
Leaving our halting-place, near the source of the 
Yaekandandah Creek, my friend and myself started one 
morning in February for a ride south through the 
ranges. Although early, the heat of the sun was al¬ 
ready very powerful; yet the effect it had upon us was 
more bracing than enervating, such is (he clearness and 
dryness of this Australian atmosphere. 
Commencing our journey, and following a well-defined 
bush path under the tall Gums, gay with myriads of 
paroquets and rosellas and resonant with the harsh 
shrieks of indignant cockatoos, we come at last upon 
more varied vegetation, and find ourselves passing 
through one of those beautiful Fern forests for which 
this division of Victoria is more especially famed. One 
word only as regards the hush itself. It is a somewhat 
prevalent idea at home that an Australian forest—the 
bush of the colonists—is either an inextricable jungle or 
at least a woodland dense with an intricate parasitical 
undergrowth. But this, while frequently the case in 
the gullies and valleys of the higher parts, is not a 
characteristic of the bush proper. This latter consists 
of an endless “round" of similar trees growing at a 
considerable distance from each other, so that a horse¬ 
man can easily ride through them at a good pace with¬ 
out any unusual caution. I say “ round,” for Australian 
woods have the appearance of endless circles ; and it is 
this aspect of theirs which renders it almost impossible 
for any one but a native to find his way through them 
without a track, blazed trees, or a compass. The unvary¬ 
ing monotony of the trees, the regular distances between 
them, and the absence of any forest landmarks, render 
the bush far more bewildering than the densest English 
forest. 
But on leaving the bush proper and entering one 
of those forests composed of Tree-Ferns and beauti¬ 
ful varieties of Eucalypti and Acacim, this under¬ 
growth becomes more and more marked. Indeed, 
in many parts of Gippsland the explorer would 
make but slow progress, as advance can only be made 
by the tedious and fatiguing process of cutting one’s 
way. 
On first entering this scrub the scent of late-flowering 
Wattle strikes my companion and self as peculiarly de¬ 
licious, mingling as it does with the aromatic fragrance 
of the Peppermint and other allied plants. The clear 
musical notes of the magpie swell most charmingly 
through the still air; and above the chatter and screaming 
of breakfasting parrots and busy butcher-birds, gurgles 
every now and again the hoarse chuckle of the laughing 
jackass. Suddenly, from some unknown cause, there 
ensues an almost complete silence; but before many 
seconds are over, a shrill burst Of laughter comes from 
the depths of the forest, succeeded by peals of the same 
demoniac jubilation from seemingly every quarter; 
and, as if indignant at some sight, the parrots and cocka¬ 
toos redouble their shrieks, and the paraquets and rosel¬ 
las, and lories dash to and fro among the branches of 
the trees like tiny red and green meteors. The shrillness 
is astounding, and is increased by the incessant birl 
of the cricket-like cicadas. It is some minutes at least 
before the ornitlxologic vituperation calms down. Here, 
amid many beautiful varieties of Wattles, we notice the 
weeping Myrtle, the native Cherry, the Musk Aster, one 
or two varieties of Honeysuckle, a beautiful climber, 
probably a Clematis, a few Magnolias and Orchids of re¬ 
splendent hues, and some particularly fine grasses— 
besides many other flowers and shrubs unknown to un¬ 
scientific eyes. Above these wave in intricate profusion 
the sturdy branches of the Dicksonia antarctica, and as 
we proceed further, that still more graceful Fern, the 
tall Alsophila australis. After we have ridden for some 
time, we come suddenly to a small creek, or rather pool, 
surrounded by a beautiful species of Iris ; while all 
around us are thick Magnolias, whose delicious fragrance 
makes the air seem heavy with sweetness. We have 
never before or since seen this shrub in such splendor 
and luxuriance. 
As we ride on, the sun grows higher and higher in the 
heavens, and a gradual silence seems to be creeping 
over the forest with the ripening noon. The scrub, 
which had lately been full of life, appears to be de¬ 
serted by its noisy denizens, and only at rare intervals 
the muffled chuckle of the “jackass” falls on our ears. 
Hark ! what was that? Like a far-away village bell, a 
soft sound rings through the still air, and now another 
and another ! My companion whispers to me the “The 
bell-bird ! ” The solemnity of the noon seems to deepen, 
and the promised vigor of the day to have subsided into 
a luxurious dream. We dismount, and tying our horses 
to a tree, betake ourselves to midday rest for an hour or 
two. As we lie there lazily smoking, with the scent of 
the Magnolias in the warm air, and the dreamy call of 
the distant bell-bird rising and falling at solemn inter¬ 
vals, we get drowsy, and perhaps just a little sentimen¬ 
tal. However, it does us no harm, and adds very much 
to our enjoyment. From our resting-place we can just 
see the blue line of a distant range rolling away north¬ 
wards, and behind it some outlying summit of the misty 
Bogongs. Not a breath stirs; hardly any sound falls upon 
the ear. I think of that mystic land 
In which it seemed always afternoon, 
and feel as if I too had partaken of the lotos juice, and 
had put away all things of that world in which I late 
had part, and fallen into a sweet dream, never to fade 
until it should imperceptibly merge in the indistinct 
shadow of its twin sister, death. 
Morning and evening the Australian forest is awake ; 
at noon it is asleep. No greater contrast can be imag¬ 
ined than between the morning hours and those at 
midday. In the former, the very flowers seem to pos¬ 
sess an active existence. Myriads of such, larger and 
more brilliant than those under English skies, load the 
air with the sweetest scents ; magnificent Tree-ferns 
wave their fronds or branches in the light breeze: on old 
stumps of trees, great green and yellow lizards lie 
watching for their prey; the magpie throws her voice 
from the Wattles, and possibly the lyre-bird in the denser 
scrub; and in the tall gums, numberless paroquets, 
parrots, rosellas, cockatoos, butcher-birds, love-birds, 
etc., are screaming and darting to and fro. But by-and- 
by the intense heat will silence all these, and nothing 
will be heard but the chirp of the grasshopper and the 
shrill sound of some unseen insect. At twilight again 
there is a revival of life, but not of so cheerful a descrip¬ 
tion. The cicades shriek by myriads their deafening 
“ p-r-r-r-r r ” ; drowsy opossums snarl in the Gum-boles; 
